


Promise

by sofithethird



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 16:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofithethird/pseuds/sofithethird
Summary: Martin and Jon deal with their nightmares together





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at some undisclosed future point (going with the idea that, you know, Martin and Jon aren’t dead and survived the Unknowing).

Jon does not wake up with a start. He comes out of the nightmare and blinks awake slowly, allowing his heavy eyes to take in the dark ceiling above him. Already, he is feeling the details of his dream begin to slip from his memory, until he is only recalling fragments and flashes. As he lies there in the dark, he feels his heightened heartbeat slow, feels his breathing begin to even out. When he thinks he is calm enough to move, he turns his head. The clock on the beside table lets him know that it is 4 AM. He sighs softly to himself, knowing he won’t be able to fall back asleep tonight. Though most of his dream was forgotten now, even small pieces were enough to make him shudder... in his work at the Archives, he’d seen enough to make him never want to sleep again. And even now, when he didn’t feel the constant dangers of his job, the memories still plagued his mind. The statements. The kidnappings. The Unknowing. Most days, it was all just too much. A full night of sleep was as rare as a friendly word from Tim. 

He thinks he’ll get up now and maybe splash some water on his face. Then maybe make some tea... at this, he thinks affectionately of Martin, who has officially converted him from coffee. Jon rises and turns on the light, blinking in the sudden brightness that fills the small bedroom of his flat. He pads softly to the kitchen and puts a kettle on the stove. That’s when he hears the soft rapping at the door.

His heart leaps in his chest with immediate panic. His first thoughts go to any number of evils that could be stalking him, waiting with unknown malice just behind his door. Trying to calm his nerves, he quietly crosses towards the front door. He leans toward the peephole while reaching with one hand to grasp the handle of the steel baseball bat he keeps in the entryway for just this sort of occasion. And then he lets it go when he sees the soft lines of a familiar face just outside, not some terrifying eldritch horror, but Martin. He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, with palpable relief, and opens the door just as Martin raises his hand to knock again.  
Martin seems to melt with relief as the door swings open.  
“Jon... “ he manages to get out.  
“Martin come inside, it’s cold out” Jon says, his usually stern tone flecked with concern as he shuts the door behind them.  
“What are you doing here so early?”

Jon looks Martin up and down, noticing his disheveled hair, the coat buttoned over a pajama top, the purple, sleepless rings below his soft, round eyes.  
Martin looks at his feet.  
“I called but you didn’t answer, but I couldn’t be alone” he says softly, his voice breaking slightly.  
Jon takes him by one arm and with the other hand he gently lifts Martin’s face to look into his eyes.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your call, Martin. You got the nightmares again?”  
“Yeah. Really bad tonight”  
Jon lets out a long breath, full of anxiety and concern and sorrow.  
“I can’t sleep tonight either. Come on now, I’m making some tea”.

This seems to brighten Martin’s mood somewhat, and they come into the kitchen just as the kettle begins to whistle. Martin watches Jon’s back as he completes the careful, deliberate movements to prepare the tea. Two mugs from the cupboard. Tea bags from the rack (mint, Martin’s favorite). Hot water poured from the kettle. 

“I’m glad you came” Jon says, handing him his mug.  
Martin feels the warmth of this small sentiment wash over him, even as the real warmth of the tea blossomed in his hand.  
“I just wanted to see you” Martin says.

Jon hides a rare, small smile, but picks up his own mug and stands close to Martin, their shoulders brushing gently.  
“After everything... I hate that I’m still so afraid,” Martin continues. “I dream of things I read in the statements, but the scariest dreams... like the one I had tonight... they’re the ones where I lose you”.

And suddenly, the memory of Jon’s dream comes flooding back to him. A monstrous shadow creature, he didn’t remember where from, standing over the body of Martin, bloodied and still. Jon feels tears in his eyes and looks toward the man beside him, helplessly trying to convey what he is feeling. Desperation and fear. Despair, yet hope. Love. 

Martin is crying but he tries to smile when Jon looks toward him, an understanding passing between the two where they stood. And then they were moving together all at once, lips colliding at some intermediate point between them, Martin ever so slightly on tiptoe to reach, their tea forgotten. 

Jon grips the collar of Martin’s shirt tightly in his hands, feeling the other man’s arms around him as they both lean into the kiss. They both wonder if they could keep this small slice of time frozen forever, to somehow make it last.

They pull apart and Martin is grinning unabashedly. All the time he spent pining, thinking it was one sided. And then the flirting, and the long nights spent talking. And now this. The two of them entangled in the early morning in Jon’s kitchen, the scent of mint tea and the taste of each other’s lips between them. 

“Martin... you should stay” Jon murmurs gently.  
“Okay” is the only reply that Martin can muster, but it doesn’t matter now. 

He rests his head on Jon’s chest and Jon’s breath catches as Martin’s soft hair brushes his neck, the underside of his jaw. After some consideration, Jon gently kisses the top of his head. 

“Martin, after everything, I know what it’s like to be so afraid. And it’s okay. I am too. But I need you to know that you won’t lose me, not if I have anything to say about it.”  
Jon’s voice is still soft, but resolute.

“Do you promise?” The words are out of Martin’s mouth before he even has time to consider how childish they make him sound. But Jon doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care.  
“I promise” he says. 

Out the kitchen window, light began to peak over the rooftops, banishing the evils of the night to their confines in the daytime shadows. They watched the morning come, still holding each other, and they drank their tea.


End file.
